Second Sorrow
by eleni459
Summary: [AizenHinamori oneshot] Hinamori searches for hope but finds something else instead. Soul Soceity arc spoilers.


_Warnings: Soul Society Arc Spoilers_

_Disclaimer: Bleach is the brainchild of Kubo Tite and is distributed by Shueisha in Japan and Viz Media in the US. I receive no monetary benefit from this work._

Weary as she was, Hinamori knew that she would find him. Her search had been going on for hours. Or was it days? Weeks? She had lost all conception of time. But no matter. The clues had began to pile up again: a certain smell attached to the leaves, a lock of hair found on a desk, and a torn patch of fabric from what appeared to be a captain's haori. She carried them close to her as she ran through the empty Seireitei. She technically had no obstructions but she found it hard to navigate through the slate gray streets. She had never noticed that the buildings all seemed to look the same. Though she knew that she should know her way around the place she called home during the last few decades, she found herself running into dead ends with growing frequency. "Everything is against me," she muttered. "They won't let me find you."

She continued to run, bounding into what appeared to be courtyards only to find them to be dead ends. Alleys narrowed into fine points with no obvious escape. Even areas within Fifth Division headquarters appeared different. She found herself running along pathways only to find herself back at where she began. Just like that, the trail grew cold. Hinamori slid down the wall, her hand clutching the fabric as if that alone would keep the tears at bay. "Where are you?" she whispered. "You must know that I've tried. I've thrown away everything that I once held dear to find you. Friendship and pride mean nothing to me if I can't be with you. Why aren't you here?" Her words were greeted with silence.

Hinamori stumbled back to her feet. Though her heart urged her on, her mind began to question her motives. He must be gone. She had seen him pinned to the wall with her own eyes. Didn't that mean anything? Gradually, the futility of her search dawned upon the rest of her body, causing her legs to tangle together and send her tumbling to the ground. She laid there, both unwilling to move and unsure of where to go. She eventually drifted to sleep.

No time seemed to pass between her fall and her awakening to a shadow that covered her body. Hinamori looked up to see a familiar face. "Captain Aizen," she managed to whisper.

"Don't talk." Aizen offered her his hand. Weakly, she reached out and grabbed a hold of it, allowing him to hoist her to her feet. She let him hold her close. They lingered this way for moments, her breathing in his essence and he holding onto her as if she would drift away if he did not. As hard as she tried not to, she could not stop her tears from falling. Aizen carefully wiped them away before letting her bury her face in his clothes. "Don't fret, Hinamori," he said. "We are always together. I'll never let you go."

"How will I know?" she asked, her voice sounding like a fractured sob.

"You'll just know."

Aizen let go his grip. He tilted Hinamori's head towards his and, bending some, kissed her on the lips. She closed her eyes and let it happen. She didn't move, allowing herself to absorb what was happening, as she knew that it would not happen again for some time. It ended and, with her eyes still closed, he leaned in toward her ear and whispered, "Goodbye."

Hinamori opened her eyes. Instead of finding herself where she expected to be, she realized that she was lying down on some sort of cot. She attempted to raise her arm but found that it was covered in wires. With a sharp yank, she was able to dislodge some of the wires from her right arm. She pulled still more wires out of her left arm and attempted to sit up only to realize that her mouth was covered. Carefully, Hinamori removed the facemask and set it to the side. "Why am I here?" she said. Her voice sounded hoarse. It sounded as if she hadn't spoken in a while. Again, she tried to sit up but the pain emanating from her chest made it impossible. She reached into her robes and ran her hand along the scar that transversed her chest. Suddenly, the memories came rolling back in. There were many things that she felt she could do. The only one she had the power to do was a scream.

She couldn't have imagined how the Fourth Division adjuncts would talk about the anguish of that scream for years to come.


End file.
